With the tape came much of Tony's now iconic beard and mustache and a little more then a dribble of blood and saliva that popped into his lap. Tony's eye was swollen shut and the other he focused on the figure standing at the door. Waiting. Robotic almost.

For once, he didn't try to talk. Some of his teeth felt loose and it was good just to be able to breathe again.

He didn't care for being a damsel in distress, and he certainly hadn't expected to see Steve Rogers so soon, but if he had to be saved, he was glad it was by Captain America. It wasn't weakness that caused him to lay his forehead to Steve's chest. It wasn't even relief. He was just happy.